Olivia blushed with fury; no wonder the crafty bitch had suggested that. Now, every time Olivia needed the pot, she would have to be accompanied by Flora, who would take great delight in fumbling about for ages, trying to fit the belt back into place.
'Now the front section,' the governor said in a business like manner.
Although it ought to have slipped in much more readily he seemed to experience considerable difficulty, and so was obliged to put his fingers inside her, guiding it in and pushing from its base. He uttered the same observation that Flora had made; that she was remarkably tight and narrow, coming to the same conclusions with equal surprise.
Olivia looked down and watched its progress with detached curiosity, as inch by inch vanished between her legs. Then the section was padlocked over her naval and the governor stood up. He placed his hands on her hips and spun her round, testing it for any slack that might need taking up. There wasn't any, and he stood behind her fondling and patting her bottom as he might a mare taken to stud.
'That should open you up a bit,' he murmured as much to himself as she.
'You said just now,' Olivia reminded him, 'that everyone else will see me.'
'So I did and they will, for every morn, noon and night at meal times and at prayers you will display yourself before the whole assembly.'
'What?!'
'I think you heard me.'
'I have to stand naked like this, with these things in me?'
'Those are the rules, and rules are there to be obeyed. When the time comes to have the belt removed I am, by law, obliged to carry out an inspection of your parts, which will involve the insertion of another implement, particularly up your bottom, which you will accept without question. Do you understand?'
Olivia nodded glumly, but thought it just as well she be inspected; God knows what would be going on inside her with those cruel things prodding day and night.
For two whole weeks, Olivia wore the belt; subjected to the prying eyes and disgusting remarks from the other inmates, and the constant fingering and bullying from Flora. Not once was she given any respite, and on one occasion when she protested, the belt was removed, but only to be replaced with longer and thicker rods than before, and a ring fitted in front to which her hands were chained at night, as were her ankles and neck. This last was fitted with a collar from which more chains extended and held her fixed to the railings so that it was impossible to move her cramped and aching limbs. When at last the day came for her release, Olivia presented herself before the governor.
'I hope that you have learned your lesson, Holland,' he said, keying the padlocks at her front and rear.
The belt went slack and the rods glided from her vagina and anus with an audible squelch. Olivia sobbed tears of relief; no longer would she have to parade naked in the quadrangle or suffer the hateful Flora.
'I'm so grateful, sir,' she bowed. 'I could not have endured it another day longer. You have no idea how I have suffered so, what with the turnkey making me use the pot every five minutes for no reason except to humiliate me, and then afterwards obliging me to put those filthy things in my mouth and suck them for ages on end.'
'She made you do that?' he said, eyebrows lifting.
'And that's not all. She made me do something so vile that I dare not repeat it.'
'You must tell me everything that's happened to you.'
'Everything?'
'Leave no stone unturned, so to speak.'
Olivia fidgeted with the belt, sliding it between her fingers and absently fondling the rods. 'Well, sir,' she stammered. 'A few days ago, after I had just retired from my duties in the laundry, she came to me saying that I was to lie with her for a while as I deserved a rest.'
'And did you?'
'Only until I learned her true intentions.'
'And what pray, were those?'
'Really, it is so sickening.'
'I insist that you tell.'
Her hand closed around the rod that had been inside her vagina and squeezed it until her knuckles blanched. The governor listened wide-eyed while Olivia related how Flora had detached the vaginal rod and inserted it inside herself; insisting that Olivia ply it back and forth. This she had done until Flora seemed to throw one of her fits, as she often did on such occasions, but this time she had suddenly grabbed Olivia and tried to insert it in her, thus, hopefully joining them together at the groin.
'And why do you think she tried to make you do that?'
'Really, I haven't the faintest idea.'
The governor regarded her with considerable interest, and decided to play his hand there and then.
'The instrument I intend to put up your bottom is in my trouser pocket, see if it seems familiar.' And with that he gently placed her hand against his waiting erection.
Olivia gave it a squeeze. 'I can't say that it does,' she said, with a blank look on her face.
He unbuttoned his trousers and slid her hand inside his underwear. Suddenly a flash of recognition crossed her face.
'The very same,' he said joyfully. 'And you remember how soothing it was on your whipped flanks.' She nodded and he continued. 'Well, now it is time to have it up your bottom - for its soothing properties, you understand.'
'All of it?' she asked, growing pale at the prospect.
'Every inch,' he assured her.
'I don't think I can.'
'If you do not I shall be obliged to put the belt back on again, and you will wear it for a month.'
Olivia recoiled in horror. 'Oh, anything but that!' she wailed.
'Then bend over and spread your buttocks.'
'If I must... but would it be an impertinence to view it first? I am curious to see what it looks like.'
Her request sounded reasonable, so without further ado he showed her.
'Oh, dear God,' she cried. 'That's horrible. It isn't what you led me to believe at all, and I won't have it. I won't, I won't, I—'
The governor slapped her face and she broke into a flood of hysterical sobs. It wouldn't do to have her carrying on like that with members of the board gathering in the next room for their monthly meeting. Quickly he rang the bell and both the matron and Smithers came hurrying into the room.
'Take this babbling wretch to the infirmary,' he said, looking down to see what had attracted their attention. 'I was attacked,' he said, slipping his tool back into his trousers and feeling very foolish.
'The girl must be deranged,' said the matron.
'I thought there was a queer look about her,' said Smithers.
And so poor Olivia was whisked off to the infirmary as fast as they could carry her.
If Olivia thought the belt and the dreadful Flora were bad enough, they were mild in comparison as to what awaited her there. The master in charge of the infirmary, on being informed by the matron that Olivia was a raving lunatic with unhealthy desires towards the personal property of men, had her placed in solitary confinement.
'It's for your own good,' he warned her. 'As much for the safety of others as for yourself.'
'But I'm not mad,' she protested. 'It was the governor, he showed me his thing and wanted to put it my bottom, if you please.'
'Yes, I'm sure he did,' the master replied sympathetically, and instructed her to stand with her back to the wall.
Olivia went on protesting her innocence while the nurse produced a long coil of rope and a stout pole.
'Are you going to beat me?' she asked, preparing to touch her toes.
'Not at all,' the master replied kindly. 'Just do as you're told.'
Olivia stretched back her elbows and the pole was slipped behind her back and allowed to rest in the crooks of her arms, while the nurse took up the rope and bound them each in turn. Olivia thought her arched back would break, but worse was to follow. The loose end trailing over her buttocks was passed between her legs, pulled tight in her bottom crease, and drawn through to her upper thighs, where it was wound in slow succession round and round her legs. At every coil, both master and nu
rse wrenched it tight, finally knotting it at her ankles.
'Now your neck,' he said, fashioning a noose from another length and dropping it over her head.
With considerable dexterity he threw the other end over a beam and, after giving just the right amount of tension to have Olivia up on her toes, he tied it behind her back in the centre of the pole.
'What if I should fall?' Olivia wailed.
'It has been known,' the nurse nodded.
'Which is why your legs have been tied the way they are,' rejoined the master, 'and also why we paid particular attention to your knees. I think you'll find they will not bend, so you are quite safe.'
Then he turned to the nurse and said, 'The hood, if you would be so kind.'
'Oh, please, don't put that on me,' Olivia sobbed.
'We have to I'm afraid. But first we have to gag you.'
A short length of rope went around her head and into her mouth, was pulled taut, and then a hood blocked out the light.
She was informed that she would remain that way during the waking hours, and at night the noose and hood would be removed and she would be allowed to sleep, albeit, still with her arms and legs secured. The gag would only be removed when the nurse would feed her from a bowl of the cold and thinnest of gruel. With that they left her standing on tiptoe, the noose angling her head, arms and back at breaking point.
Olivia's suspicions were confirmed when, not a half hour later, the cell door creaked open and footsteps crept furtively across the floor. Held as she was there was nothing she could do to prevent the mauling hands that groped and played with her breasts. In angry darkness she suffered them lifting and weighing her ample orbs and the mouth that slobbered over her nipples, sucking and biting, leaving livid teeth marks on her tender flesh.
Neither was she surprised at the cane that slashed across her upper thighs. Only the force of the blows shocked her. Whoever was hitting her was using the full strength of his arm, working his way down to her knees, over the rope, and striking the fleshy sides of her calves. The exercise was repeated on her flanks and haunches, striking everywhere at random. The assailant paused for breath and began again on her belly and then her breasts, paying particular attention to her nipples. When they had been sufficiently caned to arousal and had swelled, pointed and throbbing, the teeth returned and bit the teat, crushing and rolling it, seemingly for hours.
Olivia endured it still up on her toes, the noose around her neck threatening to throttle her if she offered resistance, which was very little, except for a half-hearted twist of her hips.
Shortly after she had been whipped the nurse came in and removed both the hood and the rope that gagged her.
'Thank God,' Olivia breathed, inhaling whole lungfuls of air.
'Why, just look at you,' said the nurse, standing back and staring at Olivia's face.
She was indeed a sight to behold. Tears streaked her cheeks in grimy rivulets, and from the constant snorting of her nostrils a thick globule of snot had blasted over her chin and chest.
'Now I suppose I shall have to wash your filthy face,' retorted the nurse angrily.
She marched out of the cell, and in the distance Olivia heard the sound of running water cascading into a bucket. The nurse returned and threw the whole lot straight into her face. Then she fetched another and tipped it slowly over the top of her head, drenching her completely, and leaving her shivering from cold and shock.
'What have I done to deserve this?' Olivia blinked.
'You are quite mad,' the nurse replied. 'It's all over the house, the way you assaulted the governor, tried to feel his thing, and what with throwing pots of soil at all and sundry. Now, open your mouth while I feed you.'
But rather than waste precious time spooning the gruel, she put the rim of the bowl onto Olivia's lips and tipped it so abruptly that the greater part of the contents spilled over her chest. Olivia swallowed but a mouthful of foul tasting gruel that had been dredged from the very bottom of the vat.
'Is this all I get?' she asked, grimacing.
'Until I return this evening, yes.'
She replaced the gag and hood and marched off, leaving Olivia half starved and aching. All day and everyday Olivia was obliged to remain thus bound and up on her toes. The only respite came when, at night, she was taken down from the noose and laid on the floor to sleep.
At the end of a fortnight Olivia learned who it was that caned her regularly and so thoroughly, beating every inch of her legs and body.
'You had to be subdued,' the governor apologised, while the master and nurse stripped away the ropes.
Olivia, racked with pain and starved to the point of distraction, seized her bowl of gruel and swallowed it in a single gulp.
'More,' she said, thrusting it into the nurse's face. 'I want more. My guts are rumbling I'm so hungry.'
Governor, master and nurse stared in stupefied astonishment at this untoward request.
'Did I hear aright?' the governor uttered, horror stricken. 'The wretch has dared ask for more?'
'She did, sir,' confirmed the nurse.
'Then the girl is mad,' added the master, hoping to keep Olivia there until the governor had finished with her, thus allowing his own salacious advances.
'Stark, raving mad,' the nurse said again. 'Mark my words, she will be hanged. I feel it in my bones. That girl will be hanged.'
Olivia thought it a miracle she hadn't been hanged already. 'I only want some more,' Olivia pleaded, falling at the governor's feet and kissing the tips of his boots.
An animated discussion took place. Olivia was mad and far too expensive to be maintained in the House of Correction. The additional cost of having her transported over the moors to the lunatic asylum was allayed by an advertisement pasted up in the town, offering Olivia as a maid of all work to anyone willing to part with a sovereign.
Chapter Six
The response came much quicker than anticipated, and a day later Olivia was bundled into a cart and driven post haste across moors to the town, where her new employer awaited her.
'The girl stinks,' said Mrs Reynolds, the undertaker's wife, pinching her nose and taking an emphatic step backwards.
The magistrate, who had authorised Olivia's release, looked rather embarrassed. 'But she'll clean up ma'am. Just put her under the pump and she'll clean up.'
Mrs Reynolds eyed her suspiciously. Olivia looked very underfed and hardly able to work fourteen hours a day.
'A waste of money,' she grumbled, ripping Olivia's dress from her back.
The magistrate quickly extricated himself before she changed her mind and he would have all the bother of finding her another place.
'Get those rags off!' Mrs Reynolds barked, kicking Olivia in the rump and heading towards a large pump in the middle of the yard.
Olivia peeled away the tattered remnants of her dress and stepped naked into a stone trough. A young man and woman who had been watching the proceedings emerged from a doorway and came over to where Olivia was standing.
'Allow me,' the young man said, picking up a fearsome looking scrubbing brush.
'Scrub her well, Henry,' replied Mrs Reynolds, shaking her head and going back to her kitchen.
'Charlotte, work the handle,' said the young man, taking hold of Olivia's hair and twisting it round his fist.
The girl creaked the pump handle up and down, showering Olivia in a torrent of icy water. Her limbs shivered and broke into thousands of tiny goose bumps. Henry began scrubbing her back, and had already made up his mind to have her as soon as the opportunity presented itself.
'Open your pretty legs, there's a good girl,' he smiled wanly, and drove the bristles hard into her labia.
He scrubbed her all over, and when he had finished helped her out of the trough, taking great care to squeeze her breasts as he did so.
'Now what?' said Charlotte crossly.
Henry was the undertaker's son and heir to the business. The last thing Charlotte needed was a rival. She had hated Olivia on
sight.
'I'll take her into the workshop,' Henry said, wringing his hands. 'And you can be about your business.'
Swearing and muttering to herself Charlotte went off into the house, leaving Henry and Olivia making their way across the yard to a line of low, squalid outhouses stacked to the eaves with coffins.
'This is where you'll bed down,' he remarked, 'which I daresay, is plenty good enough for the likes of you.'
'Thank you, sir,' Olivia replied, staring into an empty coffin.
He put his hands on her waist and steered her tactfully away from the window and behind a pile of timber, where he immediately began to fondle her wet bottom.
'What are you doing?' she protested over her shoulder, trying to shove him away.
'Inspecting you. It's part of my duty, to make sure you're fit for work. Can't have another corpse on our hands, at least not yet.' His laugh resembled water gurgling down a drain, and Olivia shuddered.
'Is it necessary to feel me there?' she asked.
'Very,' he chortled. His clammy hands went everywhere, rubbing between her legs, pinching her calves and thighs, all around her buttocks, and spent a long, long time cupping and squeezing her breasts. Olivia stood stock still while he feasted himself on her nipples, thumbing them and gazing in awe as they rose up, erect and succulent.
'I bet you've had quite a few in your time,' he croaked in her ear, patting her bottom and grinning like an imbecile.
'I don't know what you mean.'
'Cock,' he said crudely. 'I'm talking about cock. How much have you had? A couple of hundred, I'll bet a pound.' And before she could utter an astonished reply he pushed her over the timber and kicked her heels apart.
'This is outrageous!' she shrieked, wriggling like an eel.
'Lovely,' he said, grabbing her waist. 'I like a woman who struggles. Makes it all the more worthwhile when it's in you, not like Charlotte, she just lies there like a dead parrot.'
Olivia could hardly believe this. She knew exactly what was prodding into her buttocks, and from the feel it was much bigger and harder than the thing the governor had made her touch.
The Instruction of Olivia Page 7